Weasley's Every Emotion Beans: Lust
by RipRoll
Summary: It's nearing the end of summer and Harry, Ron and Hermione have gone to stay at Diagon Alley with Fred and George for a few weeks. But after one of the twin’s joke shop experiments is accidentally 'ingested' relationships are turned upside down...
1. Greetings in the Leaky Cauldron

Weasley's Every Emotion Beans: Lust A/N: My first fanfic – rather exciting though simultaneously nervewracking. Apologies for any out of character 'fanons' but if I could really get inside the characters heads I would be busy giving JK Rowling a run for her money… Hope you like! And review!   
Summary 

It's nearing the end of summer, and Harry, Ron and Hermione have gone to stay at Diagon Alley with Fred and George for a few weeks. But after one of the twin's joke shop experiments is accidentally 'ingested' relationships are turned upside down...

**Disclaimer: **No I don't own Harry and Co, though I would give much to borrow the Weasley wins for a weekend!

Chapter one: Greetings in the Leaky Cauldron 

A girl with bushy, uncontrollable hair stepped out of a nonchalant black London cab, with suitcase in hand and the first smile that had crossed her face for quite some months. The scene was nothing out of the ordinary: that is until the girl stepped into the space between an abandoned house and an old bookshop and seemingly disappeared into thin air.

Hermione Granger drank in the atmosphere of The Leaky Cauldron, filling the gap that seemed to have been missing ever since she'd left platform 9 ¾ at the end of her fifth year at Hogwarts. Despite the danger; the pain of watching her closest friends hurt; the ominous threat of what was to come. Despite all of that being somewhat left behind, sitting in her plain bedroom, in her house that reflected the same image of suburbia that could be seen for miles, with parents who, despite their attempts, could not begin to empathise with what had happened to her over the last five years, Hermione couldn't find any enjoyment in the normality of plain muggle living. As she looked round the wizarding pub with its eclectic range of customers, robes of all different colours and occasional small explosions emitting from wands, she knew that, with the good and the bad, this was the world she needed: the one in which she now belonged.

She was supposed to be meeting Ron and Harry here, but she was rather early and decided to find the innkeeper, Tom, and get settled in to her room for the next couple of weeks. Remarkably, after weeks of owls from Harry complaining about being stuck with the Dursleys and from Ron, who whined about his boredom at the Burrow now the twins were gone, she had been informed that they could have something of a holiday, staying with the twins in Diagon Alley. She couldn't help but think that Dumbledore would have some serious protection spells, as well as members of the order, around them – Harry particularly: they had barely moved an inch last summer without a ten-wizard guard. But she wasn't going to question their fortune – this freedom was exactly what she needed before getting back to her studies.

After unpacking she skipped back down to the bar and sat at a table in the corner, butterbeer in one hand and a favourite book in the other. She was soon lost amongst plot complexities and didn't notice the redhead who had just entered.

He stared at her for a moment, a grin at the corners of his mouth as he marvelled at her complete ignorance of all except the pages in front of her. Her eyes darted across the pages with ease: he was rather sure the Weird Sisters themselves could walk into the pub right now, start a riot and those eyes wouldn't lift. She looked different to what he remembered. Well, not different - just older, taller, more slender. Hermione had always been Hermione: his kid brothers annoying, though at times endearing, best friend, who was more courageous and outspoken then one might expect, but who also had what he, George, viewed as a rather unhealthy interest in lessons and rules. But something had certainly changed. You could tell by the brief appraising looks she would get by any man who happened to glance at her table. She had become rather alarmingly attractive.

He walked over to her table and she didn't look up. He coughed slightly to try to get her attention and still she seemed a little far away. Not wanting to disturb her from her obvious state of calm he stared for a further few moments, knowing only in the depths of his mind that he was rather enjoying it.

Without warning those almond shaped eyes suddenly moved upwards and were staring straight back into his own.

'Well, are you going to stand their all day or are you going to say hello?' she said with a smirk.

George blushed a little beneath his freckles at being caught out and quickly grinned.

'You're early aren't you? Thought we weren't meant to be meeting you, Harry and Ron for a couple of hours – did you miss me that much?'

'Likely! I just had to get away from the total boredom of my town before I turned the next kid who said my hair was bushy into a canary, purely for a little entertainment!'

George's mouth dropped at Hermione's rather uncharacteristic outburst, before he proceeded to list several things he and Fred had in stock that would have done the job. She chided him, although she looked amused, and only a touch alarmed, at the prospect of subjecting her neighbourhood to one of the Weasley's creations.

'Talking of Fred, where is your better looking mirror image?' she joked.

His face filled with mock hurt before he punched her lightly on her arm.

'Excuse me but every one knows that I'm the superior twin in _every_ way! As far my cheap imitation, he went to pick up Harry and Ron from their respective places of residence. Borrowed a car from the ministry…you know they've been a lot more inclined to help us out recently…'

Hermione smiled and listened to his tales of how Lord Voldemort's appearance in the Ministry for Magic had prompted much of the wizarding community to treat the Weasleys – who had been some of the only to stand by Dumbledore when he tried to tell the truth – with a new found respect. She hadn't failed to notice just how much she was enjoying George's company. She had spotted him out the corner of her eye earlier and chosen to keep quiet whilst he stared at her. She wasn't completely sure why. It could, perhaps, be blamed on her hormones, that had become rather more active recently. On the fact that she hadn't really had close contact with anyone besides her family for a while. More likely, she knew, was the fact that George had seemingly turned into a man since leaving Hogwarts, and she could not ignore the draw of his defined upper arms in his polo shirt.

Right at that moment two boys, one with scruffy jet black hair and another who seemed to have grown at least several more inches and had distinctive red hair, entered, accompanied by someone who, to the untrained eye, resembled the exact same person currently sat at the table with Hermione. She shrieked and attacked the group within seconds of them stepping over the threshold of the door. Still sat at the table, George marvelled at the way his younger brother and Harry seemed entirely ignorant of Hermione's new found 'womanlyness', as he was now describing it to himself, whilst hugs were exchanged all round. He supposed that their long and complex friendship made them view each other in a similar to way to which he would look at Ginny. He shuddered at the thought of Ginny growing to be anything other than his sweet little sister, before getting up to join the excited party.

**A/N: **Well there you have it, chapter one! Can't be sure of how much I will update – very much dependant on the level of effort I decide to put into AS Levels revision – but I will do my best! Review, review, review! If it's life changing, if it's acceptable or if it is quite frankly rather shit, I want to know:-p

Shellxx


	2. Unexpected meetings in unlikely corridor...

**Chapter two**

Hermione woke with a start. She could tell by the incessant twittering and singing of birds outside the window that it couldn't be long past dawn. Yet somehow her mind was wide awake – far away from the thoughtless world of dreams – and she knew she didn't have a hope of getting back to sleep. Sighing, she got up and decided that she might as well make the most of the time before the others dragged themselves out of bed, and have a soak in the bath.

This was her fourth morning in Diagon Alley – the last few days had past in something of a fun filled blur. Having left Hogwarts, Fred and George had not exactly outgrown their prankster personas – if anything being around their joke shop, developing new ways to trick people, 24/7 had made them worse. But the fact that they were no longer "breaking school rules" meant that Hermione was actually finding herself able to laugh along with the rest. Well, except for when the joke was on her of course. She was still sprouting occasional feathers in her hair.

There was only one bathroom on the floor she was staying on – though be under no illusions: it was considerably cleaner and more comfortable than your average communal washroom at a muggle B&B – so she wrapped a gown over her skimpy nightwear before hurrying down the corridor, wash bag in hand. Considering the rather ridiculously early hour she hadn't expected anyone else to be up, so it was something of a surprise when she rounded the corner and walked head first into a rather firm chest.

'Ouch! Merlin, what on earth…oh hello! What are you doing down there?'

Having fallen flat on her face, Hermione slowly raised her head, first seeing a pair of undoubtedly quidditch toned legs, black boxer shorts, a perfectly defined abdomen flecked with dark red hairs that began to lead her eyes back downwards again…

She quickly lifted her head and now found herself level with the object that had sent her flying in the first place – that firm muscular chest. Just above that was a head of red dishevelled hair, a face, roughly grazed with overnight stubble, grinning a little too much at Hermione's rather unfortunate current position, and a pair of blue, green flecked eyes full of amusement.

'George Weasley! Will you stop just standing there and help the girl you have just, rather unceremoniously, knocked over!'

'Knocked over? I would suggest that if said girl insists upon walking blindly around corners into poor, unsuspected men trying to get to their rooms, then she should perhaps have to get herself up…'

'Walking blindly! George, it's 7.00 in the morning! I was hardly expecting the corridors to be overflowing with crowds…now will you stop joking and give me a hand…why are you smiling?'

'Why Hermione, I would have offered you my hand already but I don't really want to risk being accused of sexual harassment...perhaps you should, er, retie that robe of yours first? Not that I'm completely averse to the idea of it remaining undone…'

'What are you…?' she started. She noticed that his eyes, however, did not appear to be trained upon her face anymore and so, following his gaze, looked down at her self. The robe she had thrown on rather hurriedly was now hanging open, revealing the only thing she'd found suitable to wear to bed in the oppressive August heat. Suffice to say it was hardly the most conservative items from her wardrobe she'd chosen: little shorts she hadn't worn out since she was twelve – now with a tendency to ride up – and a tight, black vest top. She blushed as deep red as the Weasley before her's hair, and proceeded to scramble to her feet, hurryingly trying to cover herself up.

George was, he had to admit, more than a little disappointed that the show appeared to be over. Her legs were so long and toned, and the cool morning air – or at least that was what he put it down to – meant her pert nipples had stood to attention through that scrap of material being worn as a top. Trying to snap himself out of it, he returned to the real world to find that she appeared to be hurrying away from him as fast as her rather lovely legs would carry her.

'Hey Herms, wait a second…' he said as she was just disappearing around the corner, 'where were you off to at this early hour?'

Still beetroot and reeling from the embarrassment of the situation, Hermione reluctantly stopped in her tracks and turned back to him.

'I, er, I was just going to have a, er, bath because I woke up early and, er, couldn't get back to sleep and, er…birds singing…not really tired…so…er…' she mumbled in reply.

'Funnily enough that's where I just came from! Thought I'd get to the shop early - I'm fairly sure Fred's been there all night…he's been working on some new project. I swear he can get as bad as Percy was with his cauldron bottoms when he's really into something…' he trailed off.

'Well, um, I'll be off then…to the bath, you know…' Hermione managed.

They both stood and stared at each other for another few moments. George wasn't really sure why he'd called her back in the first place – perhaps only to extend the pleasure he got from looking at the tousled, sleepy beauty before him. Hermione wondered to. He seemed to just be staring at her, and her thoughts turned to what a fright she must be looking to have made him temporarily voiceless. Her hand moved quickly to her head, in an attempt to flatten her undoubtedly unruly morning hair, and she was suddenly conscious of the remnants of yesterday's mascara that probably sat beneath her eyes. George just smiled inwardly at her sudden attack of insecurity, thinking she looked more than a little cute.

If it hadn't been for the big, brown owl which sped down the corridor and straight into Hermione's head right at that moment, they might have stood there all day. Instead, however, Hermione found herself being knocked to the floor, for the second time that morning.

'Merlin, Hermione, are you alright?' George said, as he rushed to do the gentleman-like thing this time, and helped her to her feet.

She rubbed the side of her head, but pleased, if anything, that she had managed to hold her gown together this time. After assuring George that she was alright, she moved over to the owl and untied the message from around its foot, finding that it was addressed to the red head. She passed the message on to him, beginning to think that her relaxing soak in the tub just was not meant to be.

'It's from Fred – he thinks he's finally had a breakthrough! Doesn't mention just what it is he's had a breakthrough on though…he wants me to open up the shop while he goes down to Knockt-, er, well somewhere else to get a few more ingredients…'

Hermione's eyes had narrowed at what George had nearly let slip – he was fairly sure she knew he'd been about to mention Knockturn Alley. Seeing the prefect within her awakening, all other thoughts were pushed temporarily from his mind and his common sense told him to get away – quick! Making his excuses, he continued down the hall, back to his room, and threw on some clothes. He didn't allow his brain to process exactly what had happened – or how he had been feeling – during his brief corridor encounter, until he was alone and minding the shop. The only certainty in his head was the pure desire he felt for a certain brunette right now.

That brunette was now doing laps in the large rectangular pool-like bath, not dissimilar to that used by the prefects at Hogwarts. Though the steam and the bubbles relaxed her muscles, and the cloudy depths smoothed her hair, the bath did not have the desired effect of calming her over-active mind. Now, in fact, it had many more new ideas and thoughts to contend with and - she was sure - none of the answers to the questions she was now asking herself would be found in your average textbook. Rather unnerved at the thought of her usual resort being redundant, she told herself she was just being stupid. She couldn't think like this about George Weasley. Aside from the fact that he was her best friend's brother and stood for all the rule breaking and chaos she generally found herself despising, he was never in a million years going to think about her like that.

**A/N: **Cheers to my first reviewer, **sandiwandi**, very much appreciated and glad you liked it! It was you, in fact, who inspired me to update so promptly! I quite like this chapter and think it's a bit better than the first which was a little rushed..

Anyways, review more people, and I'll update more!

PS. Apologies if the formatting is a little screwed up – I haven't quite go the hang of the system yet…


	3. Of magical beans and garish skin

**Chapter three – Of magical beans and garish skin**

Two days had passed since the 'incident' in the hallway, and Hermione had decided that the best solution to her problem would be to avoid a certain red-headed twin. Granted, she wasn't exactly sure what avoidance would achieve – but she sure as hell thought not seeing him at all was better than having to endure his laughter and teasing over the situation she had managed to get herself into. And laughing and teasing was what she was sure he would do. In fact, she thought it something of a miracle that he hadn't run straight off to warn Ron et al that they better not roam the corridors too early in the mornings, because he'd heard that a somewhat scary zombie wondered the halls – throwing itself into unsuspecting passers by. She shuddered again at the memory. So far she'd easily been able to find excuses to avoid George: she was going shopping with Lavender and Parvati; she had promised to meet Neville in Flourish and Blotts and give him a little potions tutoring before the new school year; she was tired and fancied a nap. Harry had suggested a few drinks with the twins last night, but she had stifled a yawn, feigning tiredness, and made her apologies before retiring to her room early.

George himself had not picked up on her purposeful avoidance of him, but rather felt a little unfortunate that she always seemed so busy. When he thought back to the other morning, he was certain there had been a spark – the way they had looked at each other, the way she had blushed so profusely. But then again, who wouldn't blush profusely at being seen half naked? _She probably thought I was a right pervert, the way I was staring. _He sighed, and proceeded to sit on his stool behind the shop counter and stare out of the window, thinking that it could do with a good clean because-

'You won't be able to see a thing out of that window in a few weeks!' a cheerful voice came from behind.

George spun around to see Fred stood in the doorway, his hair standing on end, his eyebrows slightly singed and his robes covered in something green, sticky and not at all pleasant looking. His mouth, however, was spread across his face in a grin, and the source of his happiness seemed to be gravitating from a small, red bean he held out in the centre of his palm.

'You, my dearest brother, are looking at the product of a genius,' he said, voice full of self-satisfaction, 'I have created something that is going to send Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes national…no, maybe even international! I can see it now, stores in Hogsmeade, Paris, New York…'

'Uh, Fred, do you want to tell me why you seem to have suddenly fallen in love with a bean? Please don't tell me you got it from a stranger you met on the way to market, in exchange for our cow daisy – wait, wait, will it grow into a beanstalk with a giant at the top who has a harp and a chicken that lays golden eggs and…' he trailed off as his twin was looking particularly unimpressed.

'Ha, ha-dee, ha! You won't be laughing when you find out what this bean can do! We'll be putting Bertie Botts out of business! Come to think of it, I reckon we could market this product beyond just the joke shop… we're going to be raking it in!'

'Look are you going to tell me just what it is you're so excited about, or do I have to guess? We might be twins, but I can no more read your mind, than Ron can chat up girls…'

'Patience, my dear brother, is a virtue. I need to go out, pay some visits – check a few wizarding laws. Need to know that this will all be above board-'

'Hold on a second! Check a few laws? Fred what exactly are we talking here, I mean it's just a bean!'

'Tut, tut – you should know by now _never_ to underestimate anything! I think I'll leave a bowl of what are 'just beans', as you so observantly put it, for you to ponder over while I'm gone. But I wouldn't eat them if I were you…' he finished with a mischievous smirk on his face.

And before George had the chance to argue, he proceeded to place a bowl of multi coloured beans on the shop counter before sweeping out the store without a word.

Mouth agape, George stood still for a few moments before turning his attention to the bowl. He sniffed, prodded and poked at them, though he knew better than to ignore his brothers warning and have a taste. After five unsuccessful minutes, he decided to chance leaving the shop unattended momentarily – after all it had been a relatively quiet morning. He wanted to take a look upstairs in their makeshift laboratory – with a bit of luck he would find some clues in the mess he was certain his twin would have left behind.

Hermione was just deciding what she could do today that would avoid, at all costs, visiting 93 Diagon Alley, when a loud knocking came on her bedroom door.

'Just a second!' she yelled, finding her gown to cover herself up.

The knocking became stronger and more urgent, 'Hermione! Hermione open up, quick! Before someone sees me…' Ron's voice carried through the large oak door.

Now highly intrigued, she hurried over the door and pulled back the latch to allow him in. She was caught somewhere between horror, pity, and great, great amusement at the figure standing before her.

The figure was certainly recognisable as the person Hermione knew to be Ron: same towering 6 foot height, same flaming red hair, same robes – slightly frayed and worn from years of use before him. But there was something of a significant change in him this morning. This being that his usual pale, freckled skin was now a garish fuchsia pink, complete with bright blue spots. It seemed to extend beyond just his face, but was all over him, even his fingers. She stood there for a moment, her mouth twitching to smile, but her common sense telling her that it would not perhaps be the most sensible thing to do: she was certain there was an angry flush on Ron's cheeks, beneath the layers of pink and blue. Now inside her room and away from the exposure of the corridors, Ron didn't seem to know what to do. He just stood there in apparent disbelief at what he had woken up to see in the mirror this morning.

'W-What happened?' Hermione managed, stifling a giggle.

'It was Fred and George…I know it was – thought they were being a bit friendly with all the drinks they brought me last night – they're usually right stingy gits…' he moaned.

'Did you just wake up like…like that this morning?'

'Yeah, just this morning…though for all I bloody well know I've bee like this for hours…in fact – hang on a second-'

'What?'

'I _thought _Harry couldn't look me straight in the face when we came up last night – guessed he'd just had too many butterbeers – the bloody git, I bet he was in on this too!'

'Well I think it's just a simple charm…have you, er, tried to, you know, get it off?'

'Tried! Hermione, I've been scrubbing since I got up this morning…my skin is raw!'

'Oh Ron you are so useless, I meant tried with magic! As if a bar of soap is going to do any good'

'Well, miss-know-it-all, since I, and you, are not yet of age, magic has not exactly been an option yet! I was hardly going to sit on my arse and attempt nothing!'

'I suppose…well you'll have to go to the twins. I'm sure they'll have an antidote – I'd imagine they just slipped something in your drink last night, probably a new product'

'In case you hadn't noticed, I'm hardly fit for human interaction right now, Hermione! There is no way in a million years I am leaving this room now…'

'Well then you'll just have to stay that way!' she said, getting annoyed. What exactly did he expect her to do?

'Uh, well I was thinking you could go and see them. Get the antidote, or else drag one of them back here to fix me!'

_Oh _she thought.

'Hermione? What are you looking like that for?'

'Well, um, why doesn't Harry go…or…or…we could just wait to see if it wears off…' I stumbled.

'What? You said it yourself that it would take a charm or something to get this off. And why would Harry go if you're here right now…what's going on?'

Realising how stupid she was sounding Hermione snapped out of it.

'Right, right, well I'll be going then. Be back as soon as I can…' she said.

Ron, looking somewhat dazed by his friend's behaviour, seemed to decide his own situation was more important right now, and proceeded to wave her off, telling her to be as quick as possible.

The irony that she now had no choice but to visit the one place she was trying to avoid was not lost on Hermione. It seemed the fates were not through with the embarrassment she had faced so far. It was only when she reached the shop that she realized it was past eleven and that she had managed to miss breakfast altogether this morning. Her stomach rumbled at her, and she thought longingly of the big, greasy fry ups that The Leaky Cauldron would surely have stopped serving by the time she got back there. This day had certainly taken a turn for the worst.

Sighing, she soon found herself before the grubby door of Weasley's Wizarding Weezes. Summoning every bit of energy she had – and bearing in mind she hadn't eaten for quite some time this was not much – she pushed the door open and prepared herself.

_Empty. The shop is empty!_

Feeling slightly relieved, almost as though she'd just found out her execution was to be postponed a further few moments, she took stock of the situation and tried to decide what to do next. She assumed that at least one of the twins had to be upstairs – in a back room or something – and therefore that they would have to come down soon. Pushing Ron's image out of her mind momentarily, she decided that there would be nothing to gain in intentionally calling for them or going upstairs herself – they were most likely busy. Instead, she busied herself, browsing the tall shelves, packed with innocent, naïve looking objects, which most who came in the shop knew to be anything but. Bearing this in mind Hermione's next action was somewhat surprising. Having known the twins for a good five years, and having been the victim of enough of their 'jokes' over that time, it was even more so. Yet it's quite amazing what an empty, starving stomach can cause the mind to forget. Seeing the bowl of what she assumed to be Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans on the shop counter, she absent mindedly picked up a red one – in the hope that it would be strawberry – and popped it in her mouth. And then the blacked out.

Upstairs, and still having no luck on the What's-Fred-Invented front, George heard a crash, and realized with a jolt that he had left the shop floor unattended for quite some time: what if that had been someone making off with half their stock? Cursing himself for his stupidity, he dashed downstairs and saw an unconscious Hermione lying amongst a pile of canary creams and other such things. Quickly he ran to her side, and checked her pulse and that she was breathing. They all seemed to be fine. He spoke her name several times, but nothing seemed to be getting through. Now panicking slightly, he tried to look outside – wondering if, perhaps, she had been stunned or cursed and her attacker had made a run for it. But just as he was considering going to get some help he looked back down and saw that her eyes had opened.

And they were staring straight back into his own, with what was undoubtedly, what was undeniably, pure desire and lust.

**A/N: **Mwahaha. But of a cliff-hanger I would say…:-D Well I shall be updating soon – with a but of luck in the next few days, but it all depends on how much work my teachers decide to give me tomorrow.

Thank you so much to all my reviewers:

**Libsey, mm4ever2gether, BlackGoldSilverTiger, Julesdom, Park White, babygirl1832z, DarkRoseMaiden**

**queen-of-monkey-magic – **glad you like! Chapters may get loner, but if I keep them averaging 3-4 pages (ms word) then I can update more!

**sandiwandi – **George is hot isn't he:-D with a bit of the luck each new chapter will better the last!

**AmberJupiter – **the quick updates were as a result of it being the weekend, and at the expense of my sleeping habits – I was knackered at work today being up half the night writing! Can't guarantee to always be that fast!

**redheadlover – **I'm on your favourites list! After two chapters, I'm honoured! Hpe chapter three doesn't make you wipe it off…

Love you all

Shellxx


	4. You put a spell on me

**Chapter Four - You put a spell on me**

'Hermione! What in God's name happened? I just heard a bang and you were lying here…did you slip? Mum was only saying the other day that someone would break their neck if we didn't tidy up…I never thought a piece of advice from her would prove to be right…' George trailed off due to the lack of response from Hermione.

Instead she just continued to stare straight at him as if she couldn't hear a word. Her eyes seemed hazy and distant – George began to worry that she'd taken a pretty serious knock to the head.

'Er, are you alright? 'Course your not! We've probably given you a bloody concussion! You ought to see a healer…Mum is going to murder me! I'm meant to be keeping an eye on you… Who needs You-Know-Who, when you can come to Weasley's Whizarding Wheezes and nearly get yourself killed?'

And with that, George lifted the girl up, remarking at how slight she was. He placed her gently on the ground next to him; one arm tightly across her shoulder to prevent any further falls. He wondered if she would be able to walk. Her feet, however, seemed to be planted firmly on the ground with little need of extra support. She turned to him again with those disarming eyes and opened her mouth to speak.

'George,' was all she said, but he suddenly found himself paralysed. He was no medical expert but the tone of her voice did not suggest she was in desperate need of aid – or at least not the kind he'd been thinking of a few moments ago. He loosened his grip on her, sensing that it was not necessary, but in a sudden movement he found his arms being tightly pulled round her waist. He began to sense that something wasn't right and briefly wondered if the fall had knocked her right out of her senses. But then she touched him and all rational thought was pushed to the back of his mind.

Her slender hands were cool as they began to stroke the flesh of his bare arms and he found himself convulsively shivering. Her eyes never left his as she raised her hands further and gently traced the outline of his collarbone. Finally she reached the nape of his neck and her hands met pulling him closer to her. He only had a moment to consider the irony that he, George Weasley, was apparently being seduced, before she pulled his head down and pushed her lips onto his.

She kissed him hard and insistently, at the same time backing him against one of the shelves. More things went flying but neither of them seemed to notice. She bit at his lower lip and he groaned with pleasure – he was so used to girls sitting meekly, making him do all the work. This was something of a pleasant change. Her tongue suddenly plunged into his mouth and he began to kiss her back with just as much urgency. He lowered his hands from her waist and grabbed at her buttocks, lifting her up. In response she wrapped her legs around his waist and held herself up with surprising strength. She seemed to suddenly feel the presence of the bulge in his jeans and looked up at him, the corners of her lips curling upwards and a wicked glint in her eyes. Her hands began to move back down his chest and she tugged at the bottom of his shirt.

Some kind of common sense must have been left in his head, because George suddenly realised they were in the middle of the shop and anyone could walk in. Thankfully they were shielded from the windows, but he knew that if this was going where it seemed he wanted a little more privacy.

He tried to break the embrace - it took some amount of force to stop Hermione from her quest to remove his clothes. Eventually, however, she fell still and looked up at him with disappointment and what he thought for a moment was hurt.

'Don't you want me?' she said, those four words turning him on more than anything in his life.

'My God, are you mad, of course I do,' he replied setting her straight, 'I just think it might be an idea to close the shop first…'

'Oh,' she said. And then the hurt was gone and the wicked grin was back.

George quickly bolted the front door and turned the sign around, somewhat surprised that his brain and limbs were still communicating properly. He then took Hermione by the hand and led her up the stairs – the grubby sofa in their mock lab being the only place he could think of taking her. He just prayed she was as desperate to have him, as he was to have her, and would be able to overlook the stains.

He needn't have worried. As soon as they reached the room she pushed him down and finished the job she had started before, literally ripping the shirt off his back. Clothes began to fly everywhere and within seconds, it seemed, they were both naked aside from their undergarments. He noted her choice of black lace with appreciation, before taking a moment to drink in the sight of her. She was every bit as perfectly womanly as he'd imagined, her legs toned, her hips full, her waist petite and her breasts… He roughly pulled her bra down, not wanting to waist time with the clasp, and showed his admiration by taking a nipple in his mouth and sucking and biting until she was gasping. He then kissed his way down her abdomen until he reached the barrier of black lace.

'Oh George, please...please…' she spoke with pure need.

He peeled the top of her kickers down until she was fully exposed. Whereas he would normally get on with it at this point, the strain against his boxers growing, he wanted to pleasure her more first. He was suddenly struck by the thought that this would probably be her first time – Hermione was no whore like other girls he'd known. Strangely this didn't make him pause even for a moment to consider whether this was a good idea – nothing had ever seemed so right.

Instead he decided to make this the best experience he could, for her. He slipped a finger to the heat beneath her pants and was surprised at how wet and welcoming she was. He rubbed his hand, catching on her clitoris, and causing her to cry out. Continuing this with one hand, he moved back up her again, trailing kisses everywhere until he reached her mouth again and found her lips parted and waiting. They drank from each other as the excitement continued to build up in her and she groaned deeply from the back of her throat. The sounds she made were almost enough to make him climax right then, but he restrained himself, instead touching her with more fervour. She began to desperately push herself against him trying to reach something he knew she was close to. He moved his hand away briefly causing her to growl disapprovingly.

'Don't…please…' she panted urgently.

'Just wait,' he replied, finding a voice from somewhere.

But sensing she couldn't hold on much longer he pushed two fingers deep inside her. Instantly she bucked hard against him and shouted out in bliss, shivers causing her body to shake violently, until she collapsed still onto the sofa. George stared at her, flushed and glistening with sweat, and thought she looked more beautiful than any girl he'd ever seen. His own needs became more insistent then, and he began to kiss her again. But she placed her hands on his cheeks and pushed his head back gently, smiling.

'I think I love you George Weasley,' she said breathlessly, her eyes cloudy with affection.

He was paralysed again, not knowing what to say after this somewhat unexpected declaration. He'd been with loads of girls before, and sure they'd said they loved him on a few occasions. But he'd always put it down to confusion at the pleasure their bodies felt: George had never had any problems making girls happy. However this was different. She had said it with sucha certainty, and he was beginning to think that maybe somewhere deep inside he felt the same. It seemed ludicrous, but he thought about how long he'd known Hermione. He remembered the times she'd been the only one to stand up to him and Fred, believing so strongly in upholding her responsibilities. He remembered the way she'd looked reading her book in the Leaky cauldron – had that only been days ago? He looked again at the flushed beauty and realised the idea of love did not seem ludicrous at all.

He was about to reply to her with just as much certainty, but as he looked at her eyes they seemed to have changed. They were no longer cloudy and dreamy, but sharp and panicked. _Was she regretting her actions, or perhaps the statement she made afterwards? _

'George?' she said in a voice no longer throaty with lust, but panicked, 'I…I...I'm sorry! I don't know what got into me! It was like I wasn't controlling myself anymore…'

'Hey, it's alright love, you don't need to apologise!' he said, with veiled worry at the turn of events, 'I was a bit overcome as well!'

'No. George, you don't understand.'

She got up, suddenly conscious of how bare she was, and searched wildly for her clothes. Once she'd roughly pulled on her jeans and t-shirt, with surprising speed, she made for the stairs.

'Hermione, wait!' George yelled, now completely confused by the woman. She seemed too panicked to even listen, though.

'It was as if…as if I was under some spell or…' she muttered. Suddenly her head snapped back and she stood stock still, a look of fury in her eyes.

'Did you curse me? Imperius? I wouldn't have thought you capable of it, George. But it doesn't make sense any other way. H..h..how could you?' her voice broke and tears of fury and hurt streamed down her cheeks.

'Hermione! I didn't do anything, I bloody swear!'

But it was too late and she'd fled. He ran after her down the stairs, but she was already at the door tugging desperately at the lock.

'Hermione…' he tried, but his voice was empty. He was confused at what had happened, hurt by the hate in her voice and wanted more than anything to hold her in his arms and stop her from crying.

As she ran out the door, he felt pain deep inside more acute than he could ever have imagined.

**A/N:** What's this? An update? My goodness, it is indeed! I'm so, so, so sorry that this has taken so long. Actually writing it wasn't the problem, but rather finding the time and energy.

Don'thave time to thank you all individually, but you should know the reviews do mean a lot! A special thnaks to **sandiwandi**, as her e-mail was what really woke me up and made me get on with this!

Right now I must go back to revising the impact of interest rate changes on the housing market, but I will try to update soon, soon, soon!

shell xx


	5. Questions, questions and no real answers

**Chapter Five**

**Questions, questions and no real answers**

Hermione paced the streets of Diagon Alley, barely aware of where she was and often knocking into people, although she didn't notice. All she could do was attempt to digest what had happened to her. She remembered Ron and his funny coloured skin, walking to the Weasley's shop, browsing the shelves… Then it all became somewhat dreamlike. Her whole body seemed to blush scarlet as she relived her memories. They were as clear as day – it wasn't as if she had completely blacked out. She hadn't even lost control of her actions. It was more like her caution, or her conscience, had been temporarily stifled. And her feeling of desire had been so strong; she had acted entirely out of character.

But she felt dirty, and all wrong. As soon as her senses had returned, she had been overwhelmed by feelings of embarrassment and confusion. She _knew _with a passion that the actions she had taken were not entirely of her own doing. For now she ignored the little voice inside that questioned whether they were actions she really had wanted to take, but would always have been too scared to.

And George. What about George? She had vented her anger at him as viciously as she knew how. But would he really have bewitched her, or even used the muggle trick of drugging her? The number of times she had been maddened by the twin's carefree use of tricks; always scared underneath her anger that they might one day cross that line to do something that just wasn't right. But they never had, and she had been sure recently that they knew right from wrong. The Weasley's were good people.

But for now she could find no other conclusion to draw from the awful mess.

Eventually she made it back to her room, and was initially surprised to see a pink and blue-spotted Ron sat on her bed. Something inside her even registered that her makeup bag looked disrupted and that Ron's eyelashes looked suspiciously long. But she was too exhausted to even consider the humour of this, for the moment.

Ron, his blush well hidden, jumped to his feet and looked at Hermione expectantly, desperation still in his eyes. Hermione stared back blankly, her eyes vacant. She was only just remembering what the point of her trip to the Weasley's had been.

'Are Fred and George coming?' he asked pleadingly, 'Or did they show you what to do?'

She remained silent trying to keep a hold of her thoughts that were darting around her mind at an obscene speed.

'Why are you looking at me like that?' he asked, the desperation a more urgent note in his voice now, 'There is a cure isn't there? It's not permenant? I…I'm not going to look this way forever am I? Because I'll never get a girlfriend…and…and they'll never let me be an auror. And everywhere I go people will laugh and point and…'

Something in Hermione snapped, the stress of the day becoming just too much.

She screamed, releasing all her tension, and then turned her anger on Ron, shouting at him to leave her alone.

He froze for a moment, mouth wide open, gawping at her in shock. She managed to take pity on him for a moment, quickly making something up.

'It's only a temporary charm. It'll wear off in a couple of days,' she said.

But when he still didn't move, she added 'Now get the bloody hell out of here!' in her scariest tone.

He scarpered, leaving Hermione to collapse onto her bed.

But when she closed her eyes, all she could see was George's face as she ran out the shop. It had been a mirror of her own confusion and hurt.

George was so shocked he stood stock still for a good half an hour, just staring at the place Hermione had been. His mind was whirring, but all it could come up with was nonsense. One minute he had been very much enjoying the company of a girl he found more than a little attractive. The next minute she was yelling at him, and hurling the strangest accusations. The imperius curse? Bloody hell. Surely she knew that was something he would never _ever _even consider. Especially to make a girl do…well the things she had been doing with him. Bloody Hermione. Bloody girls in general.

But this front of humour did little to dispel the real pain inside. The memory of her saying that she loved him. The intensity of his own feelings, he had been about to announce. It did little to prevent the shameful tears welling behind his eyes.

'Closed? What are we closed for? Why are you looking like that? Did you poke yourself in the eye with a quill again? What have I told you about being careful?'

Fred's demeanour was just as bright and good humoured as it had been an hour or so ago. When his twin did not react, another possibility dawned on him.

'You didn't eat a bean did you? Not a purple one?' he said, with obvious panic, but more than a little curiosity, 'I was wondering how brain dead stupidity would turn out! Admittedly I didn't realise it could make someone look quite so empty headed…'

Suddenly George snapped to attention, his sharp eyes alert and concentrated on his brother.

'Fred? That bowl of beans you left behind…'

'I keep telling you their not just beans, haven't you figured it out yet?'

'…are there any missing?' George continued, ignoring the interruption.

'Well if you ate one I would have to say yes. Crikey, I hope they don't leave permenant damage. You are being very slow…'

'I haven't taken one! Just check will you, are there any missing?' he yelled, pieces slowly falling into place in his mind.

'Well let me have a look. Ah, the purple is still there, pity, and the blue, green, yellow, black – can't wait to see that one in action – erm…red? The red isn't there?'

And in that moment everything made sense to George. He'd known his brother had been taking an interest in mood affecting magic a while back, but he had not realised he could ever achieve it.

'So she must have taken it. Oh God, you'd think she would know better than to eat something from _this _shop. I should have known. Why would she ever even be interested in me, let alone love me…' he began to monologue to nobody in particular.

'Hang on a second George, love did you say? Who are we talking about here?' Fred tried to interrupt.

But George, oblivious to all else now, carried on regardless.

'She must think I did it on purpose. Of course she does. And there was me thinking someone could actually fall in love with me. It was all just manufactured feelings…'

'Now hang on just one second!' Fred said, accompanying his comment with a slap to George's face, 'Are you trying to say somebody, somebody I am presuming to be of the fairer sex, ate that red bean and declared their undying love for you?'

'Something like that,' George muttered, rubbing his stinging face.

'Because you know me George. You know us. We don't muddle in that love potion malarkey – nothing good can come from messing with that particular emotion!'

'Well what exactly does a bloody red bean do then?' George snapped back.

'I was coming to that!Now, I'm only guessing here, but if my calculations are correct this girl would have blacked out, come round after, oh, I don't know, a few minutes, and…well tried to jump your bones!'

From the look on George's face, he knew he was right, and continued.

'It's lust you see! The red is lust! So she tries to jump you and, you being you, well, you just go along with it and…'

'Well so what!' George retaliated, 'Love or Lust? What bloody difference does it make to me?'

'Now, now, my dear brother, you of all people should know there's a very big difference! If this girl told you she loved you I can promise you she must have meant it, regardless of the bean!'

The silence was profound.

**A/N: Right so after way more than a year, many lovely reviews, and the odd death threat, she finally updates. I know I have been appallingly mean… I wouldn't blame you all if you chose to boycott my story. **

**All I can say**** in apology is that I had a total block. I just didn't know where I wanted to take the story. And I subsequently lost a little interest in fanfiction. Only to return and see so many lovely reviews! My inspiration is back, and I am determined to complete this story! **

**So review away and you will be rewarded…**

**Shell xx**


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